


Find Your Way Home

by MarvelousMenagerie (HiddenOne)



Series: Imagine Tony & Bucky fills by hddnone [8]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Steve & Tony, But no character hate, M/M, Omega Tony Stark, Sad!Steve, Team as Family, Unrequited Steve & Bucky, except for Steve, that becomes past Steve & Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-27 01:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14414475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenOne/pseuds/MarvelousMenagerie
Summary: Fill for ITAB prompt:I just cannot manage to trim this anymore, so... 1/2. Imagine an ABO where Tony and Steve are together. Then Bucky is found. Steve decides that he wants to try a relationship with Bucky because he always kind of loved him and Alpha/Alpha relationships are okay now, so why not try? He breaks his bond with Tony. Bucky is appalled because that just wasn't done, and he wasn't interested in Steve. 2/2 Back then, omegas who had their bonds broken because their mate died in the war were cared for by the Alpha’s family. Bucky and Steve aren’t blood family, but they’re close enough. Bucky starts to take care of Tony, and the two of them end up falling for each other. They’re both nervous because neither wants to hurt the other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at the ImagineTonyandBucky blog on tumblr. Thanks to the anon for the prompt!
> 
> Thank you to Bill_Longbow for being a fantastic beta!!

Bucky wakes to the smell of smoke. Greasy and acrid, the smoke winds up his nose and makes him want to hurl. He ignores the urge and leaps out of bed.

His apartment isn’t on fire yet, but probably the building. The temperature is warm, too warm, but still cool enough that he has a few extra moments before he needs to be gone. He grabs his backpack and then rushes to the kitchen, giving himself fifteen seconds to grab any additional food.

He hears the shouts and screams of his neighbors and relaxes - that should be enough to wake up anyone else still asleep this morning.

He burns his fifteen seconds in shoving extra bread, cheese, and water into his back. He grabs his coat, and then Bucky dashes to the small balcony attached to his living area. He uses his momentum to jump up onto the railing and then push off, leaping for the neighboring roof.

Bucky scans for Hydra agents - or agents of any kind - as he lands into a roll. For all of his planned escape routes, he had expected to be chased, but the fire doesn’t appear designed to flush him out. Or at least, there’s no one chasing him that he can see.

He runs, keeping a careful eye out and sticking to the shadows. Still, he doesn’t detect any followers, but the screams from those left in the apartment build.

He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t.

Bucky turns back to look.

Smoke billows out of the alley, and Bucky can barely make out the balcony from which he had jumped. The lower floors have to be on fire. Bucky can hear the sirens, but they’re not close enough - not for how old the apartment is, with creaky floors that would give away an attacker.

Something explodes on one of the lower floors. The entire building groans. People on the fire escape start climbing up instead of down, their screams reaching a higher pitch.

They’re trapped. They have no way down except to jump at least five stories down to concrete or to leap for Bucky’s roof. None of them will survive the first, and most won’t survive the second.

_Go, Bucky!_  Something within him urges, or is that someone? Someone told him that. There were flames then, too. Fire everywhere. Bucky had been stuck on one side, the safe side like he is now, but there was someone on the other…

The man.

His mission.

…Steve.

****_No, not without you_ , Bucky mouths now, in the present. Is that what he had said? Is that what he did? The fear comes roaring back with the memory, panic clawing up his throat and trying to choke him… but he didn’t die in the flames. Steve couldn’t have died in the flames.

But then what happened?

Bucky rotates his wrist, listening to the chinks of the metal plates to help him stay on the roof, in the present. He’ll write the memory down later, when he is safe enough to get lost in the past.

Bucky steps forward, to the alleyway and the burning apartment complex. But what to do, how is he going to get people across? Bucky scans the rooftop that he’s on, and sees a pile of construction supplies piled next to a half-built shed, including a stack of long wooden planks. Bucky races over and drags two out from the bottom, where they would’ve been shielded from the weather.

The wood is solid, not yet warped or damaged. He drops his backpack between the supplies, out of sight behind a bucket, and then brings the boards over to the edge. He lets them fall across the gap, keeping a hold of one edge and aiming for the railing on the fire escape on the other. The boards are just long enough. They land with a clatter on the other side, startling the people clustered on the upper levels. They’ll have to climb back down, nearer to the flames, to get to Bucky’s bridge, but it’s their only option.

People, so many people, are now looking at him. Bucky risks a glance behind him, but there’s no one else on his roof.

Bucky turns back and focuses on the first person he can make eye contact with - a woman, staring at him wide-eyed, as she clutches a purse full to bursting. He waves her over, focusing all his attention on this one person.

She hesitates for a moment, and Bucky curses that he picked the wrong person to beckon first. But then she races down the steps with others on her heels.

“Hold this edge,” she orders the man standing next to her, her voice shaking, as she points at the wood. She slings her purse over her shoulder, and then slowly climbs up onto the planks. She crawls - slowly, too slowly, but she crawls over. In the middle of the alley the wood bows under her weight, but the planks hold.

She keeps her eyes on Bucky, and Bucky doesn’t dare blink. If he blinks or breaks contact, she might look down and freeze, and there won’t be time to get everyone across. He feels his internal clock ticking, counting down, as the flames and smoke continue.

_No, not without you_ , he repeats the words to see if they fit in his mouth yet.

Bucky holds fast to the lengths of the boards that he has on his side. He crouches out of the way as the woman makes it to him and tumbles over onto the roof. She immediately jumps back up, crying but waving as the crowd cheers.

People from the street watch, point. The woman to his right comes up next to him to help him hold the boards steady on this side, and Bucky wants to abandon his post and run. He’s no longer needed.

He stays. He holds the board. He pretends that Steve is on the other side.

_Not without you_.

Getting others over is borderline chaos. People rush and clump and scream, trying to get across when there’s already too many people on the boards. Sometimes the boards jostle, too many people moving, and someone almost slips off before they’re steadied by the person behind them. But people make it over. The fire escape slowly empties, though Bucky watches the flames approach with a cautious eye.

Then finally the crowd is safe on the roof. A cheer starts up, echoed by those watching below, but then people start shouting and pointing. There’s one person remaining, slowly making their way down the fire escape to the bridge.

An elderly man minces his way down the steps in his bathrobe and slippers. He’ll never make it across by himself.

“Hold this,” Bucky orders the person standing closest to him. The command slips out, and Bucky steps away from his position holding the wooden planks with full expectation of compliance. The man he had ordered obeys without question.

Rather than using the bridge, Bucky backs up and then takes a running leap across the gap. He lands on the fire escape, and the metal is hot underfoot. He ignores the shouts of alarm from those below and runs up the stairs until he meets the man.

“Please,” the man gasps.

Bucky tosses the man over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry without another word. He races back down the stairs to the wooden bridge. He doesn’t want to risk a bad landing in jumping back across with his passenger.

The fire escape sways underneath his feet, and Bucky suspects it’s the apartment building itself that’s moving. He doesn’t waste any time in stepping onto the wooden planks and walking across.

The boards bend under their combined weight, and Bucky eases his stride into more of a slide to lessen the stress on the wood. Sweat trickles down his back at seeing everyone else watching, screaming, pointing. He will have to run, fast and far, to dodge the attention that this will create and the agents that will end up on his tail.

Bucky reaches the middle of the bridge when the edges that had been resting on the fire escape slip off.

They fall.

Bucky has half a moment to decide, and then he twists the man until the man is tucked into Bucky’s chest. Bucky forms a protective ball around him as best he can, unsure if it will work to help the elderly man survive the impact. Damage to himself will be great, but most likely not fatal.

Bucky counts the seconds as they fall. He hopes he will be able to walk, or Hydra will easily find him. His backpack, with his notebooks, is still on the roof.

People’s screams increase, but underneath Bucky hears the sounds of a jet pack.

“Barnes!”

Bucky untucks to see someone diving at him - the one with the wings, that had been with Steve.

Bucky holds out his left hand. The man grabs it and then pulls up. Bucky bites back a groan as the metal tears at his shoulder, pulling the rest of his body in the reverse direction of gravity. The man slows their fall, but it’s painful. If Bucky had offered his right arm, he would have dislocated his shoulder.

The heat intensifies, flames from the building licking at them, but then finally the man’s wings compensate for the additional weight and they fly up.

They land on the roof, and Bucky releases the elderly man back on his feet.

“Thank you, thank you,” the man cries as he sinks down to his knees anyway. “Thank you.”

Bucky backs away, uncomfortable. The man with the wings turns back to the burning apartment, scanning with his goggles. “Is there anyone left?”

There’s no one left on the fire escape. The flames climb higher and higher, and those safe on the roof back away from the edge as the heat increases.

“Looks like we’re all clear,” the man with the wings says, turning to Bucky. “Nice work.”

Bucky backs away.

The guy removes his goggles and then holds his hands up. “Hey man. I’m Sam - friend of Steve’s. You remember Steve?”

Bucky watches Sam. He watches the crowd around them that’s watching them. He watches for anyone who could be Hydra catching up to him, he watches for anyone who could be Sam’s backup. He watches for Steve.

“Steve Rogers. You used to know him, right? Grew up with him, fought in a war beside him. Best of buds. Ringing any bells?”

_Go, Bucky. No, not without you_. Bucky takes stock of his escape options, but doesn’t move. Not yet.

“Look, Steve wants to help you. I want to help you, however you want it. You need money? Place to stay? Someone to help make sense of it all? We can do that, man. However you want to play this out, we can do it.”

Bucky’s backpack is still tucked away. No one had made off with it, with his journals of what he can remember. A lot of the entries contain Steve. His last mission. His last mission that he failed, when he pulled Steve out of the Potomac River.

_I’m with you until the end of the line_. That had been what Steve had said, at the end.

Sam holds Bucky’s gaze, with his hands still up. The wings remain folded at his back, but Bucky knows how to tear them apart so that he couldn’t follow Bucky.

But Bucky… Bucky wants to know what’s real. He wants to know who Steve is, if Steve can fill in the holes in Bucky’s memory. Bucky would have to go deep underground to avoid a Hydra trail after the attention this event has gained him. He won’t get a chance like this again soon.

Bucky nods. “Where’s Steve?”

Sam puts his hands down, a smile on his face. “New York City in the good ol’ US of A. You wanna ride or figure out your own way there?”

* * *

 

Sam Wilson is as stubborn as Steve, Bucky figures out. The guy keeps a careful but non-threatening eye on Bucky the entire way back to New York, and won’t even let Bucky change the music selection to something less soulful. Sam’s beta scent may be neutral and non-aggressive, but it simply masks a stubborn ass.

“Home sweet home,” Sam announces as he preps the jet for landing.

Bucky peers out of the cockpit, and bites his lip as he notes how small the landing pad is. Why would they put that on a Tower in the middle of New York City?

“Sure you can land this?” Bucky asks, wondering if he put himself in a position to jump.

“Keep your butt in that seat and shut your mouth. I know how to pilot,” Sam snarks back without any anger.

Bucky unbuckles his seat belt anyway, just in case he needs to jump.

“Dude, come on,” Sam groans as he rolls his eyes.

The jet sets down smoothly. Now Bucky doesn’t have an excuse for why his heart is beating out of control. He’s trapped himself in the middle of New York City, for anyone to find. For Steve to find. Why did he think he was ready for this?

“Here we are. I know someone who is excited to see you,” Sam says, beckoning for Bucky to follow him out.

Bucky picks up his backpack and cautiously follows Sam.

At the end of the ramp, waiting with hands in his pockets, is Steve.

“Heya Buck,” Steve whispers, but Bucky catches it. Steve steps forward, hands outstretched, but then pulls back.

Bucky tenses. Steve’s scent jiggles something in Bucky’s brain, just like it had on the helicarrier. It’s confusing. Steve’s alpha scent should be aggressive, especially with Bucky invading his territory, but it’s not. It’s charcoal and spice and warmth. It’s familiar.

Bucky fidgets where he stands, not able to take another step. Sam is the one to break the silence.

“Let’s move this party inside, huh? We cleared everyone out, so it’s just going to be us,” Sam informs him.

Bucky nods. He hitches his backpack higher, and notes how Sam claps Steve on the shoulder before he leads them inside.

Steve doesn’t move, still staring at Bucky. Bucky won’t walk ahead of him. He can’t give Steve his back, just in case. Bucky is invading an alpha’s territory. Even if Steve had dropped the shield before on the helicarrier, even though Steve said  _until the end of the line_ , Bucky can’t give Steve that opening.

“Steve, come on,” Sam prompts.

“Good to see you,” Steve whispers, his voice hoarse. His blue eyes remain wide, taking Bucky in, even as Steve backtracks to Sam.

Bucky follows their lead into the Tower. The doors swish open automatically, and Bucky eyes the sensors. There are multiple cameras embedded in the walls.

“Welcome to Avengers Tower, Sergeant Barnes,” a voice greets.

Bucky’s eyes dart to the corners of the empty room. He smells older scents from several people, but nothing helps him identify the speaker.

“That’s JARVIS. He’s the artificial intelligence who runs the Tower,” Steve explains, a hint of sympathy in his voice.

Bucky nods his acknowledgement. He expected to be watched, and now he knows what will do the watching. He will have to map out the camera angles, and figure out what JARVIS knows about him. Who told him to call Bucky ‘Sergeant Barnes?’

The elevator dings. Bucky tenses, and when Steve whirls to face the doors, Bucky lowers into a crouch, ready to flee.

“JARVIS, I told you to clear out -” Steve starts, but the elevator doors open.

A man walks out, dressed in a business suit.

“No one is allowed to kick me out of my own Tower,” the man says with a bright smile.

Steve sighs. “Tony…”

Tony waves him quiet. “Nice catch there, Bird Boy. Looks like those new wings came in handy,” he tosses at Sam.

Bucky slowly stands out of his defensive crouch. Tony’s focus turns to Bucky, and Bucky squares his shoulders to meet this new challenger.

Tony approaches him, dodging Steve’s arm trying to block the path. Tony’s tie is loose, his collar undone. A mark on his neck peeks out, and Bucky’s nose confirms what he sees.

Tony is a bonded omega.

Tension bleeds out of Bucky on instinct. Bucky reminds himself to be cautious. Hydra had employed omegas specifically for the instinctual calming effect causing their targets to underestimate them, but Tony’s stride is loose, rolled. Tony doesn’t give the impression of someone defending their turf, and Steve doesn’t do anything but huff as Tony strolls right up to Bucky.

“Steve may be the alpha lead around here, but this is  _my_  Tower.  I’m Tony Stark - even if you’ve been living under a rock for the past few months, you should know my name,” Tony says, tossing a wink back at Steve.

Steve rolls his eyes, and Sam snorts.

Then Tony steps closer, into his personal space, and Bucky freezes.

“Tony! Don’t -” Steve starts.

Tony leans forward and brushes his cheek against Bucky’s, and Bucky is flooded with Tony’s scent. It reminds Bucky of the air on a brisk morning, undercut by the sting of hot metal. It’s calming, grounding, and Bucky leans into the contact. Tony switches sides, rubbing against Bucky’s other cheek. It’s a sign of welcome, into the territory and into the pack. From an omega to an unfamiliar alpha, it’s a sign of trust.

Bucky hasn’t had that in… he doesn’t remember. He needs to write this down. He doesn’t want to ever forget this, but if he does he wants to be able to find this memory again quickly.

Bucky sniffs deeper, trying to memorize the scent. He catches the hints of charcoal and spice, and his eyes widen.

“You’re Steve’s,” Bucky murmurs. Steve’s omega is welcoming him, accepting him. Steve is Bucky’s (failed) mission, and Bucky had almost killed him. And here Tony, Steve’s omega, is welcoming him.

Bucky feels the weight of this trust like a punch to the chest. He looks to Steve, who frowns.

Tony pulls back with a grin. “Sure, if you want to go full on traditional, alpha owns the omega, but that’s not how we do things in the modern day. Or at least how we pretend to. We’ll get you caught up eventually, just like Cap here,” Tony explains.

Bucky wants to lean forward, to follow that scent. The scent is  _pack_ , and rather than nag Bucky’s brain about the holes that are still left, like Steve’s, this scent relaxes him. But Bucky has already been given more than enough, and so he stays put as Tony backs away.

“Well, I’ll let Cap and Wilson show you around and get you settled in. Let JARVIS know if you need anything, and he’ll get right on it or let me know so I can handle it. You good? Good.”

Tony nods at Bucky, pats Steve on the shoulder, and then he’s gone.

Steve sighs. “Yeah, that’s Tony. Come on, Sam and I can give you a tour.”

Bucky picks up the scent traces of the rest of the Avengers who occupy the Tower, though the residuals are light. The Tower is cleaned more regularly and thoroughly than the places Bucky has been in. He’s used to multiple scents lingering, piling on into an overwhelming mess that he had to tune out or else get a headache.

The Tower is… more than Bucky ever expected.

He even gets his own room - his own  _suite_  of rooms - clean and cleared of scents. Bucky sets his backpack down on the bed, the only items that he has. The door locks, keyed only to Bucky, though Steve informs him that JARVIS has a low level of monitoring that will alarm if Bucky tries to hurt himself or someone else inside. Still, this is more privacy and space than Bucky could dare to dream of, but because he hadn’t gone berserk and kill everyone when he was on the run, Bucky can be trusted to have privacy.

“My rooms are one floor below,” Steve says. “Stop by anytime. Seriously. It’s so much more space than I ever need.”

Bucky snorts. “Your mate cool with that too?”

Steve scrubs the back of his head. “Yeah, uh, Tony has his own space. He’s in the penthouse, at the very top. He won’t mind at all. Visit me anytime.”

Bucky tilts his head at Steve, but Steve doesn’t explain further. Sam can’t explain; he had hung back in Bucky’s kitchen - Bucky has his own  _kitchen_ \- to help JARVIS add in a few more food items, or really just to give Steve and Bucky space to talk alone.

Maybe Bucky doesn’t understand how bonds are done anymore. Hydra hadn’t been pack, not how Bucky had started to remember pack being. There were no bonds in Hydra, no trust or companionship - only orders and pain and struggle. Those that were strong survived, and as soon as someone stumbled there were two more to take their place.

He remembers, he thinks he remembers, before that - what pack had used to mean, with Steve and his sisters and his parents. In the army they had formed pseudo pack structures, but then the Howling Commandos were a solid war pack. Steve and Tony’s bond doesn’t make sense in the context of those memories, either.

Tony had said that Bucky didn’t get it, that things had changed. What did bonding mean anymore, if Steve and Tony didn’t share space?

“Well, how about we let Barnes get settled in,” Sam declares as he enters the bedroom. “JARVIS can let you know when dinner is, with the rest of us, if you feel up to it. I promise we’re chill, but there’s no pressure.”

Bucky nods in understanding, and breathes a sigh of relief when Sam tugs Steve out of the room. Steve promises to be around, available for whatever Bucky needs. Bucky appreciates the offer. He wants to remember, he wants to remember  _Steve_ , but right now he needs to case the Tower and plan escape routes and hide his journals.

He’ll do that, right after he finishes writing down the memory of a traditional pack welcome and Tony’s scent.


	2. Chapter 2

Not all of the Avengers show up to dinner. Bucky doesn’t know whether to be grateful or annoyed that their strategy to ease Bucky in is so obvious. Was Tony’s welcome a part of that?

Dinner that night has Bucky meeting Bruce and Clint, both betas who should be less of a threat to an alpha like Bucky and therefore set him more at ease. It sort of works - Bucky hasn’t avoided the news enough to not recognize the Hulk or Hawkeye, and so he knows even the betas in the Avengers are threats. Dinner remains fun and simple, though. Bruce shares stories of his travels, Clint talks about everything and anything, and Sam drops enough dry comments that the conversation keeps going, though Bucky remains quiet. Steve is there, an anchor amongst all the commotion. Steve can’t pull Bucky into the past - the other three divert the topic every time - but Steve keeps Bucky grounded in the present, a reminder of why he’s here.

Bucky wants to remember. He wants to remember what home is.

He doesn’t sleep that night. He rests, lying on the mattress that is the best he’s ever felt, but he doesn’t close his eyes. He remains there until there’s a ding, which turns out to be JARVIS notifying him that Steve has left a message for when he’s awake.

Bucky opens it. Does he want to go with Steve to walk around the streets of NYC?

Bucky swallows and gets out of bed.

“There’s not a lot left that looks the same,” Steve says as he leads Bucky up the stairs from the subway into Brooklyn territory. “There’s been a bit of… oh, what did Sam call it, gentrification? Or something, a lot of renovation and changes. It looks nice but… it’s not the same.”

Bucky nods. He keeps an eye out for anyone tailing him, tailing them, but looks around to see if anything jostles his memory. Bucky gets nothing, at least from the architecture. Steve keeps talking, jumping around from old memories to the ones that Steve doesn’t have himself, explaining the decades that neither Steve and Bucky remember. They get burgers for lunch and walk along the wharf, and Bucky doesn’t remember much but today, in the sun, with Steve at his side, it doesn’t bother him so much.

Steve’s scent still niggles at Bucky’s brain, but being out on the streets dilutes it out and prevents a headache from forming.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Steve admits as they stare at the Manhattan skyline across the river. “Memories or not, Buck… I’m just glad to know you’re safe.”

_Until the end of the line, punk_. Bucky has remembered enough, writing them down in his journals, to know what he should say. But the words don’t feel right yet. He can’t say them.

“Me too,” Bucky says, and offers Steve a smile.

Steve grins back and claps him on his shoulder. “Come on, we’re almost at Coney Island and I can show you where I puked after you dragged me on that roller coaster.”

 

There’s another dinner to introduce the rest of the pack. Natasha is an alpha and a high level threat, so she’s introduced to Bucky with Tony at her side to keep things relaxed.

Bucky tenses and tilts his head. “I remember you,” he realizes, and it wasn’t a pleasant one. He’d been on a mission… was she the target? No…

“Good,” Natasha says as she sits. A strategic move to make her seem non-threatening, but Bucky accepts it as a truce and so he sits as well. “That means I’ll forgive you for shooting me.”

Right, he’d shot through her to get to his target behind her.

“Twice,” Steve says with a smirk at her. Steve takes the seat next to Bucky rather than Tony.

Bucky frowns.

“Don’t push it, Rogers,” Natasha says, threatening him with her spoon.

Bucky tenses, but doesn’t move. Challenges for hierarchy in the ‘pack’ happened all the time in Hydra, and Steve and Natasha were both alphas.

“Alright, alright, keep the posturing to your own time. This is dinner, it’s time to eat!” Tony says, clapping his hands.

To Bucky’s surprise, they do. There’s no fight, no challenge. Steve and Natasha don’t even insult each other or glare or do anything. Bucky remains quiet in his seat, but the conversation around him is easy and fluid.

Pack.

* * *

 

Bucky is out with Steve on another walk through the streets of New York. They pass through a market, with produce and flowers and trinkets, where everything is new. Neither of them expect Bucky to remember anything.

Steve had left off with a story about the Howling Commandos, though, and so Bucky shares, “You found a good pack now, though.”

“Yeah, I did. The Avengers are… it’s good,” Steve replies as he looks over the offering of gerber daisies. “Missed you, though. The Commandos… Peggy,” Steve says with a small shrug.

“Still, a good pack. And you have a bonded now,” Bucky replies, confused at Steve’s dismissal. “He seems…good,” he finally settles on, though Bucky knows the word is inadequate.

Tony had welcomed Bucky, right from the start. Maybe that was because of Steve asking him to, but to give Bucky his own space in the Tower? And JARVIS told Bucky that Tony had provided the overwhelming selection of things in Bucky’s closet, with Bucky free to choose to keep or toss anything. The trust and generosity… it had been so long since Bucky had seen anything like it, and Bucky doesn’t know what to do with them.

Steve bonding Tony makes sense. Tony is fantastic - as a person, as a teammate, and as a bonded. Bucky tries not to be jealous. Steve has memories, a pack, and a mate. Bucky had Hydra, and now has nothing.

“Tony is Tony,” Steve replies with a small laugh. “When you get to know him, you’ll understand. It’s just… not the same. But good,” Steve clarifies hurriedly. “I’m just so glad you’re here too.”

Bucky nods. He picks over a stack of apples to prevent himself from thinking what it would be like to come home to a pack like the Avengers and come home to… not Tony, because Tony is Steve’s, but someone like Tony, maybe. Maybe someday, if Bucky can remember who he is.

“How did you do it? Ask him to bond?” Bucky asks as he hands over the cash for his small bag of apples. JARVIS had given him many options to access money to use for whatever Bucky desired, but Bucky stuck to the small amount of currency he’d accumulated on the run.

“Oh, it’s not a good story. It kinda just… happened,” Steve waves away. “Hey, why don’t we take a left up here? Sam suggested we check out this bakery that’s supposed to have the best cronuts of the city.”

 

Slowly, Bucky settles into the Tower. Dinner with the pack now means all the pack, except for Thor who is offworld. Some days he goes out exploring with Steve, talking through pieces of memories that Bucky has. Some days he lurks around the Tower and avoids everyone. Some days he goes to sports games with Sam, who doesn’t seem to have a favorite game.

Bucky lets himself be dragged to a minor league baseball game, a professional basketball game, a college tennis tournament, a high school cross country meet. It isn’t until Bucky finds himself at a Little League’s football match that Bucky decides to ask.

“Why did you bring me here?”

Sam leans back on the bleachers, sipping a Coke as he watches little kids run around the field. “You’re the one who said yes, man.”

“You often come to Little League games on your own?” Bucky asks.

“Nah, but football is a bit out of season. This is the closest we could manage.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow as he watches a kid trip over the lump of grass. The ‘we’ Sam had dropped implied it was a pack decision. Did that include Steve? Because Steve would never have suggested taking Bucky to a football game. Baseball was Steve’s game of choice and he had recounted several memories of games they’d gone to together. Bucky doesn’t remember any other sports.

“What’s next on the list?” Bucky asks.

“Soccer and hockey are the next big ones. You got any suggestions? No limit, not with Tony Stark financing. We could go to a soccer game in Argentina, if you want.”

“Not how I remembered a pack working,” Bucky voices carefully, watching Sam to see if he’s overstepping. “One person paying for everything.”

Sam shrugs at the question. “Tony’s got a lot, and he’s not afraid to share. He’s a good guy; it doesn’t come with strings attached or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ve had to find my own ways to contribute to the pack, like being the eye candy,” Sam says with a smirk.

Bucky rolls his eyes, and Sam laughs.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sam continues. “You want a job we can find you one. I still work part time at the VA and I’m totally willing to refer you for like, mopping floors or something if you want.” Then Sam looks at him, gaze serious. “But right now, the most important thing you can do is take care of yourself, okay? That’s what packs are for, that support system, so I’m telling you to not worry about it right this second.”

Bucky thinks Sam’s words over, and then it takes Bucky several moments more moments to voice, “Dancing. I’d… I’d like to go, to watch.”

Sam grins. “Alright, man. Not my speed, but we can hook you up.”

Back at the Tower, JARVIS offers Bucky a variety of ways to go see dancing. There’s Broadway or off-Broadway or off-off-Broadway, with both dancing  _and_ singing. There are collegiate dance recitals and professional ballroom dancing competitions and even strip clubs listed as options. Bucky picks the one he meant, though: ballet.

* * *

 

“I’m so thrilled! Who would’ve guessed that the Winter Soldier would be the one with culture compared to Captain America?” Tony greets when Bucky comes down to the communal floor the night of the ballet.

Bucky hesitates. Not because of what Tony said, but because of how Tony is dressed. Tony’s suit is a classic black with a white shirt, but the cut and the fit stall Bucky’s brain. Tony’s collar is done up, and Steve’s mark isn’t visible but Bucky wants nothing more than to press his face against Tony’s neck and take in Tony’s scent. Bucky had only gotten small whiffs of Tony’s scent trail over the past few days.

Bucky had seen little of Tony since that initial dinner with Natasha. Occasionally Tony stopped by the pack dinners, always on his way coming from somewhere or going somewhere else but dispensing cheek brushes and pats to the shoulder before he was gone again. Even with as much time with Steve that Bucky was spending, he hadn’t seen Tony.

Maybe Steve and Tony hung out when Bucky was with Sam?

Then Bucky sees Natasha behind Tony, and wonders if Tony is only here to be a buffer between alphas.

“Sam isn’t into ballet, but I am,” Natasha says, hair curled and dressed in a slim knee-length black dress. “If you’d rather that I didn’t come…”

“It’s fine,” Bucky says, which is true. There’s the tingling sense of another alpha, a threat in the vicinity, but Bucky was getting better at tamping it down after spending so much time with Steve, and Tony’s scent helps. And better not to be alone with Tony, because Bucky is still an outside alpha and shouldn’t be trusted with the pack omega.

That’s old-fashioned, he reminds himself. Sam had given him a rundown during one of their sports matches. And even if omegas were still supposed to be hidden away, Tony could take care of himself Iron Man suit or no. But wouldn’t it still be weird to go to a ballet with Steve’s bonded?

“You, however, are not,” Tony says, eyeing Bucky. “Go change that shirt and grab a blazer.”

Bucky hesitates, crossing his arms. He’s more casual than they are, dressed in jeans and a long sleeved shirt. He’d worn similar outfits to all the sports games and had put it on without even thinking.

Natasha nods. “You’ll attract attention like that, where we’re going.”

Bucky retreats to his room.

With JARVIS’ additional guidance, Bucky comes back down a second time more properly dressed in a button down and blazer. Once they get to the theater, Bucky starts to relax. The lack of comfort in the new outfit is worth being able to fade into the crowd. He almost wishes he had changed from jeans to something else, too, but Natasha grabs his arm and leads him away.

They leave Tony behind, a crowd forming as they ask for autographs and pictures.

“Should we leave him?” Bucky murmurs.

“He can handle this, and there’s enough kids that he doesn’t mind it too much anyway,” Natasha replies as she leads him into the theater.

Still, Bucky thinks that someone - Steve - should be there with him.

“He’s fine,” Natasha assures, squeezing his arm when Bucky takes another glance back. “And don’t say anything about it or he’ll get all ruffled about alpha posturing. Speaking of which, you’re doing remarkably well with me.”

Bucky shrugs.

“Steve had a much harder time,” Natasha murmurs as she hands over their tickets. “I think we expected the same of you.”

Bucky doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t respond. Hydra had been a pit of posturing, but Bucky, the Winter Soldier, whatever he was, hadn’t bothered. When he was challenged he simply killed his opponent, and soon enough he was left alone. Now, Bucky prefers avoiding confrontation and the attention it would bring. Flight came easier than fight. Bucky remembers enough to know that Steve Rogers would never understand that, pre or post Captain America.

Even now, Bucky still has the urge to run from Steve and the memories Steve brings to the surface.

Right when the lights dim, Tony takes his seat next to Natasha. The private box has only the three of them, and Bucky is grateful not to be packed in below without an easy escape route.

Then the show starts.

Bucky enjoys it. His chest aches, something teasing him in his brain, but it’s a good kind of ache. He can hardly take his eyes off the principal dancer, leaping across the stage in a fiery red dress while the male lead chases after her while performing a complex set of spins.

There’s a lift matched with a musical crescendo, and when Natasha leans forward Bucky gets a waft of her scent.

The memory devours him. The Red Room. Training. Blood. Ballet. Girls, so many girls, but one with red hair. One he danced with. One he beat to near death. One with  _that scent_.

A new scent floods his nose, one that makes Bucky think of flying and forging. The memory relaxes its hold, and Bucky blinks and realizes that he’s still in the box, the ballet is still ongoing, and Tony is in his face.

Natasha is gone.

“Hey, hey, you’re fine, you’re fine,” Tony whispers, hands hovering over Bucky but not touching.

Bucky relaxes his grip on the armrests, and he realizes he has left dents where his fingers were.

“You want to stay, or…?” Tony offers.

Bucky shakes his head, and then Tony is herding him out of the box and out of the theater.

“Eh, it was getting stuffy in there anyway,” Tony breezes as he calls for a car. “I’m thinking ice cream is a much better choice, what do you think?” He keeps a hand on Bucky’s arm.

Bucky could shove him off, could disappear. He’d miss his backpack - still kept stocked with food, water, and his journals - but he could run.

Tony puts his phone down. “Is that a no for the ice cream? Or a yes? Or we can do whatever you and Steve or Sam or whoever do when you get hit by a bad memory, it’s cool, I just don’t know what the usual is, you know. Not that I don’t care, because I do, we just didn’t want to overwhelm you all the time with us given your previous Lone Star state.”

Bucky breathes. He wishes he had his journal. It was easier to stop his brain from circling when some of the thoughts were put down on paper. He doesn’t have his journal. He has Tony and a city that would be easy to disappear into.

“Where is Tasha?” Bucky forces out, and then winces as the nickname escapes. “I, she shouldn’t have, she left you. She left you with  _me_ , that shouldn’t, your pack,” he stumbles.

“You’re pack,” Tony states, firm and sharp.

Bucky’s chest heaves. He remembers the blood on his knuckles. He remembers the feeling of a throat underneath his palm. He remembers the echo of his gun in his ears. “I’ve, I’ve done things. I didn’t choose them, but I did them.”

“Welcome to the club,” Tony bites back. “Listen. I don’t need to know what your kill count is to know that I have it beaten at least three times over, all because I was an  _idiot_. You think Iron Man will ever make up for the lives that ended because I wasn’t paying attention? You think any of us don’t regret the lives that we took? Steve? Sam? I’m sure Natasha has stories directly on par with yours. Ask Clint about Loki sometime, except  _don’t_. Even Bruce gets it, okay?”

Tony steps closer. Bucky freezes, afraid that his own reaction will be violent if he so much as lets himself twitch. Tony brushes his cheek, just like when they’d met.

“You’re pack,” Tony repeats firmly as he steps back. “Like it or not, you’re one of us.”

“Because I’m Steve’s,” Bucky says.

“Because you fit,” Tony counters. “Or you will, when you stop lurking in corners. Or lurk in them less, feel free to continue lurking if it makes you happy. We’ll be here.  _Any_  of us.”

Tony steps back again and brushes off his jacket. “Now, ice cream?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for surprise (and unwanted) kisses.

When Bucky and Tony make it back to the Tower, they hear Steve first. “You shouldn’t have risked it!”

“Oops,” Tony says with a grimace. He straightens his shoulders and then leads Bucky out of the elevator onto the communal floor. Natasha is there, already changed out of her dress for sweats, facing off against Steve.

“I admit it, it’s totally my fault,” Tony says as he bursts between them. “The Buckster and I went out for ice cream and did not bring anything back for you. Whew, glad that’s off my chest. I guess maybe confession is good for the soul.”

“Tony,” Steve growls, unamused.

Bucky’s tenses in the face of Steve’s anger, but Tony doesn’t break stride.

“What’s up, buttercup?” Tony asks. “Look, we’re fine, everyone’s fine, so maybe bring it down a notch -”

Steve storms past Tony, up to Bucky. “Buck, are you okay?”

Bucky nods and looks past him to Natasha. “Yeah. It was just an intense memory.”

Natasha sighs, sympathy on her face. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d already remembered me.”

“Not... not that,” Bucky admits.

“What?” Steve asks.

There’s a moment of silence, and then Tony steps in.

“Look, Steve, let’s just -”

“Don’t,” Steve warns. He looks back to Bucky. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

Bucky offers a smile. “Yeah, Stevie. I’m fine. Ice cream was a good choice.”

It wasn’t the ice cream as much as Tony’s ability to talk and distract Bucky from his thoughts, but it did help.

“Good,” Steve says with a sigh, his frown releasing into a smile of relief.

“I’m gonna call it a night, though,” Bucky says. He wants to page through his journals, try to see if there were hints to this in his previous writings. Then maybe he can talk to Natasha about it. He can talk to someone of _his pack_. He gives Steve a half-hug, then a nod to Natasha and Tony, and then heads to the stairs to go to his floor.

“Tony, I need to talk to you,” Steve says behind him. 

 

 

The memories from the Red Room aren’t pleasant, but Bucky writes them down anyway. Sometimes it helps to get them out of his head, and sometimes it doesn’t.

Talking to Natasha helps. Someone to confirm them as real or not, to the best that she can say.

Steve does the same for those he was present for, and he and Bucky keep walking the streets of New York City, talking over old memories and making new ones.

And the rest of the pack.  _Bucky’s pack_. Bruce is good to go to when Bucky wants tea and silent company. Clint is best for jokes and games, but he watches Bucky with a sharp knowing gaze at dinner. With Sam, Bucky keeps watching sports and trading sharp, teasing jokes. With Tony… JARVIS tells him that Tony is unavailable.

“Sir is traveling. May I pass on a message?” JARVIS offers when Bucky can’t find Tony in the Tower.

“Still? No, it’s not important,” Bucky says, frowning. He hasn’t seen Tony in days, ever since the ballet, but Tony does have a company to run. Tony makes sure to mention it often when he runs in and out and misses pack dinners.

Pack. Bucky has a pack. His bloody history and all, they don’t mind him joining their pack. Each of them shares pieces of their own past - Bruce tosses a comment over a cup of tea, Clint at the end of long sparring match, Natasha over discussion of Bucky’s journals, Sam after nightmares kept them both awake at three am and searching for hot chocolate - and Bucky shares pieces of his.

Bucky has a pack. He has a home, a territory. A place where Bucky doesn’t have to kill to survive or maintain some hierarchy. A place where Bucky can follow Steve’s lead, can watch his back. A place where he and Steve can sit together on the couch, sharing space as they watch the Wizard of Oz.

“We snuck into the theater to watch this,” Bucky realizes, the memory coming to him. “Then we got kicked out because we tossed popcorn at Frank Walsh.”

Steve turns to him, grinning wide. “Yeah, we did!”

“He - what did he do? Something with, with water?” Bucky asks.

“He’d tripped Mary Murphy so she fell into a puddle,” Steve confirms. “Wrecked her new dress.”

“Oh, yes, that was it!” Bucky says with excitement, the piece coming back to him. He grins back at Steve. The small, everyday memories were even better because there’s nothing but amusement and happiness. Bucky chuckles as he replays the memory again in his head, adding in Steve’s details.

“Buck, you’re amazing. I can’t believe… I’m just so happy you’re here,” Steve whispers.

Bucky grins. “Me too, punk,” he agrees as he lightly punches Steve’s shoulder.

Steve shoves him back, and Bucky laughs. Steve leans closer, and Bucky grins at him. Steve leans ever closer, and Bucky stares wide-eyed as Steve stares at Bucky’s mouth, still leaning in.

Steve kisses him, a light brushing of lips.

Bucky tamps down on his response of shoving Steve away and running, and simply freezes. Steve pulls back, dark blue gaze flicking up to Bucky’s, then licks his lips and leans back in.

Steve kisses him again, harder. When Steve reaches up to cup Bucky’s face, Bucky slides away. He doesn’t touch Steve, afraid he won’t judge the strength of the push correctly.

“I - I don’t remember that,” Bucky says, backing away.

He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember. He remembers dances and kisses and other things, yes, but not with Steve. He doesn’t… he doesn’t remember Steve, not like this.

Steve ducks his head, his face heating. “You wouldn’t. We couldn’t back then, but now things are different, Buck. Two alphas can be together, and it’s fine! We can be together now.”

“You’re bonded,” Bucky croaks from his dry throat.

“Not anymore,” Steve admits, squaring his shoulders.

Bucky leaps to his feet. “What?!”

“We broke the bond,” Steve says, getting to his feet as well. “Tony understands, it was never like that between us. Buck, you - you’re it for me. You always have been. Now that we can be together, I -”

“You  _bonded_ ,” Bucky interrupts. “You don’t break bonds.”

“Another thing they do now,” Steve waves off. “Bucky, don’t you… don’t you want to try? With me?”

“I… I don’t remember,” he whispers, and then he runs.

Bucky runs from Steve. He runs from the Tower. He runs from Manhattan.

Bucky pauses when he crosses the bridge to Randall Island. From the park, he can see Riker’s Island and the planes landing at LaGuardia. The breeze blows the sharp scent of the river into his face, masking the scents of the others around him as he stands and stares.

Steve broke his bond with Tony for Bucky. Bucky invaded the pack and caused it to break. What if the pack breaks apart, because of this? The pack would be gone, and it would be Bucky’s fault. Steve would lose his pack. Bucky would lose his pack. The first and only good thing since Hydra found him, gone.

Bonds aren’t meant to be broken. Broken bonds… there had only been a few that Bucky had seen, right at the beginning of the war before he’d been drafted, but it’d been terrible. There was no need to wait for a letter home, the one left living knew immediately - that connection broken. A presence in your mind, keeping you company, suddenly missing.

Tony had been gone. Tony had left the pack because Steve had broken the bond. Steve had broken the bond because he wanted to be with Bucky.

Bucky gasps for air.

People around him start shouting and pointing, and Bucky looks up to see Sam in the sky with his wings. Bucky sighs, but he stays where he is. Sam lands in an open area, and then waves and does a few autographs before he comes over to Bucky.

“If you feel like a swim, I could recommend a few more sanitary options,” Sam says as stands next to Bucky.

“You following me?” Bucky growls.

“Yeah, next time you don’t want to be followed Mr. ‘I’m a Ghost Story,’ try to avoid the public cameras that JARVIS can hack into,” Sam drawls.

“Did you think of that yourself, or did JARVIS have to tell you?” Bucky returns.

Sam snorts. “I don’t know what Steve was worried about. You’re fine.”

Bucky turns away, his jaw clenched.

Sam eyes him. “Or not. You gonna tell me what happened to get you both so worked up, or do you want to brood some more?”

Bucky takes a deep breath. “I have to leave the pack.”

“Whoa, okay, hold up,” Sam says. “Why?”

For a moment, Bucky hates Steve for making Bucky say it because Steve didn’t tell Sam back at the Tower. “Steve broke his bond with Tony so he could be with me.”

Sam reels. “Damn. That’s a trip and a half.”

Bucky keeps it to himself, but he can admit that he’ll miss Sam. He’ll miss everyone. He’ll miss  _Steve_ , but he can’t be the reason that the pack breaks. He doesn’t want Steve to be without the pack, and Bucky can run if that’s what it takes.

“Doesn’t tell me why you gotta run, though,” Sam says.

“You don’t break bonds!”

“It might not have been the thing back in your day, but people do. It happens, sometimes for good reasons and sometimes for bad,” Sam says, kindly. “Look… Barnes,  _Bucky_. People are people. What Steve and Tony do, or don’t do, is up to them. They’re able to make their own choices, and if they broke their bond that’s on them. That’s not on you.”

“What, and you don’t care that your pack is breaking?” Bucky spits out.

“Whoa, man. The pack isn’t going anywhere,” Sam defends. “We’re still here. We’ve been through too much shit together to let something like this cause us to split. Yeah, we all got some things to figure out. And you can bet that Nat and Bruce and Clint and yeah, me too, are gonna track down Tony and chew him for going through that alone.”

Sam stares out at the water, and Bucky processes.

“You need space, we can get that,” Sam continues. “But we’re a pack Barnes, and that includes you. Someone needs to be the riff raff we cart around.”

“Suck it, Wilson,” Bucky returns without heat.

“You wish,” Sam returns with a light punch to Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky lets him land it.

He thinks about telling Sam about how he doesn’t remember  _that_ about Steve. He doesn’t remember wanting Steve. He remembers the pull of omegas, a few alphas, and even some betas - but not Steve. Steve is there, always there like a guiding light. Steve is always going to be pack, Bucky thinks, but not… not bonded. Not mate.

Bucky swallows the confession.

“You want to go for a drink or something?” Sam asks, pointing back towards Manhattan.

Bucky shakes his head. “I’ll meet you back at the Tower.”

* * *

 

Bucky returns.

Steve is visibly relieved and Sam gives him a nod. However, despite Sam’s assurances, pack dinner that night is the most awkward one that Bucky has attended.

It’s Steve at the center of the storm, though.

After the looks and the nudges and silence had reached a new level of tension, Clint finally asks, “So, Steve… got any news you’d like to share with the pack?” Natasha elbows him. “What? I didn’t sit through SHIELD’s lectures about Proper Pack Communication for this!”

“Clint does make a good point,” Bruce continues. “Why didn’t you tell us, Steve?”

Steve clears his throat and sets down his fork. He darts a quick glance at Bucky, but then meets Bruce’s gaze. “I thought Tony might want to be the one -”

“Oh no, it’s not that easy,” Clint interrupts, and despite the comical smile on his face his gaze is cold. He points his fork at Steve. “When he left - and we’ll kick his ass for that, when he comes back - you, oh Great Alpha Leader, had the responsibility to -”

“Clint,” Natasha interrupts softly, putting her hand on his arm. Clint settles back into his seat with a huff and turns away. “You should have told us Steve,” Natasha levels, her voice blank.

Steve raises his hands in defense. “Sorry, I should’ve -”

“Pardon the interruption,” JARVIS breaks in, “but there is a distress call coming in.”

An oil tanker is on fire ten miles off shore. The Coast Guard is on their way, but the assistance of the Avengers would be appreciated. Steve barks out the orders: suit up and get to the jet, Bucky you’re benched.

So Bucky stays behind, watching from screens that JARVIS provides as the Avengers take off to see what they can do about saving the crew and what’s left of the tanker. He doesn’t have audio, but he doesn’t need it to realize that the new screen that has popped up next to one of the exterior feeds from the Quinjet is from the Iron Man armor.

Tony is back.

Bucky sits back and watches the rest of the pack work together. Iron Man and Falcon rescue the crew, carrying them over to the Coast Guard boats. Natasha takes over as pilot of the jet to skim the waves while Clint looks for anyone who jumped ship. Steve coordinates with the Coast Guard to put out the flames and hook up the tanker to the tugboat. The Hulk not needed, Bruce starts giving environmental and wildlife protection agencies the heads up about the spill.

When the situation is handled, the Avengers head back. Now would be the perfect time for Bucky to disappear, if he is going to. He knows exactly how much of a head start he would get.

“Sergeant Barnes, would you care to oversee arranging a meal for when the pack returns?” JARVIS asks him.

“You need help?” Bucky asks, side eyeing one of the cameras that he knows JARVIS uses.

“I confess that without taste buds or even a simple desire to eat, I am not as skilled in the choosing of food as yourself,” JARVIS replies.

Bucky sighs. “Sure, I can handle that,” he agrees. JARVIS has never had a problem in choosing food before, but Bucky is glad to have something to do. The task anchors him to the Tower, as he reviews menu options and delivery speeds.

He doesn’t want to leave.

Bucky clears off what had been left of the pack dinner. He reheats what can be reheated and tosses what has to be tossed. He orders a variety of Indian dishes, a general pack favorite, to add to the table.

“Is… is Tony coming back too?” Bucky ventures.

“Yes, sir is currently en route back to the Tower,” JARVIS confirms.

Bucky adds some extra samosas to the order.

Everything is ready and waiting, when the Avengers return. Bucky lurks, he admits he’s lurking, in the corner as they come trailing inside. One by one they thank him for the food, and they collapse at the table.

Including Tony, who is all smiles and grins and ease as he takes a seat.

Dinner is easy. Tony exclaims over the extra samosas and piles them on his plate. Steve loses the tension in his shoulders as no one talks about what happened before the call. Clint and Sam joke, Natasha and Bruce fight over the last of the butter chicken, and Bucky sits quietly and simply listens.

Pack, still here, still together.

Bucky watches Tony most of all. He’s wearing the remains of a business suit, with the jacket slung over the back of the chair and tie lost somewhere else. The red undershirt is buttoned all the way to the top, hiding Steve’s mark that would still be on his neck. He’s thinner than he was before, and Bucky realizes that Tony has moved the food around on his plate more than he’s actually eaten it.

Bucky knows what he has to do.

He waits until lunch the next day, dodging Steve’s invite for another walk around NYC. He puts together a sandwich and then takes a deep breath before he asks JARVIS to take him to the penthouse.

“If you are looking for sir, you will have more success in the workshop,” JARVIS replies.

“To the workshop, then,” Bucky says with a gulp.

Bucky has never been to the workshop. Steve and Sam had edited it out of the tour, though let him know it existed. Dread and fear twist in his stomach. He’s been in the workshops of Hydra and has no desire to ever step foot in one again. He doesn’t want to associate those memories with Tony’s, isn’t sure when he sees the workshop that he won’t imagine himself there again.

The elevator doors open to panels of clear glass, Tony working on something beyond. Bucky knocks on the glass door, not able to stop his gaze from flickering to every corner of the workshop looking for… Bucky doesn’t even know, a chair?

Tony looks up. Something passes over Tony’s face, too quick for Bucky to identify, and then Tony waves Bucky inside.

Bucky enters, trying to keep the tension in his body from showing. Then his shoulders lower, his posture relaxes. The workshop is layered with Tony’s scent, comforting Bucky and offering no reminders of the bloody, painful memories of the workshops of Hydra.

“What can I do for you, Robocop?” Tony asks, wiping his hands off on a nearby rag.

“Nothing, I just… brought you lunch,” Bucky offers, lifting the plate as evidence.

Tony squints, a confused smile on his face. “You brought me food?”

Bucky nods.

“Uh, okay?” Tony says. “Just set it there, then.”

Bucky sets the plate where directed and then, with a nod at Tony, backs out of the workshop. The weight of Tony’s gaze is on Bucky the entire way.

Usually it was death that caused a broken bond, but Bucky remembers what he is supposed to do. Family takes care of the remaining half, always. Steve is his best friend, his brother, his always-pack. Bucky will take care of Steve’s bonded, even if it’s broken, even if Tony has a pack. Tony has Natasha and Clint and Sam and Bruce, and they stick to him a bit tighter ever since Tony’s return. Tony doesn’t need Bucky, not when Bucky is part of the reason that Tony is dealing with a broken bond, but this is Bucky’s duty.

For everything that Tony gives to the pack, Bucky can bring Tony food at the least.

He brings Tony another sandwich and a smoothie the next day. Bucky receives the same confused look as the day before, but he’s allowed to leave the plate and glass.

Bucky does it again on the third day, and Tony mocks the lack of variety.

For the fourth day, Bucky tosses together a fruit salad for Tony that turns out to be acceptable and then, after going to a soccer game with Sam, pages through a cookbook. He’s noticed how Tony continues to breeze in, out, and around pack dinners without staying for very long. It’s so close to being the same as before that sometimes Bucky thinks what Steve told him that day, after Steve had tried to kiss him, wasn’t real. Maybe Steve and Tony are still bonded, because Steve doesn’t act any different when they’re out walking around the city.

Except when Bucky catches Steve giving him these looks, sad and longing, but Bucky has been ignoring those.

Bruce takes a seat next to Bucky on the couch, stirring the tea bag in his cup, and Bucky looks up from a recipe for turkey burgers that seem like a lot of work without much reward.

“I admire your efforts,” Bruce starts, and switches from fiddling with his tea cup to fiddling with his glasses. He still doesn’t look directly at Bucky. “But Tony has a lot of people looking out for him.”

Several moments of silence pass before Bucky says, “I know.”

Bruce clears his throat. “Good. Then you know to be careful. Also, Tony only likes beef burgers, so I don’t suggest trying those.”

Bruce claps Bucky on the shoulder and then leaves. Bucky stares after him, a bit wide-eyed and feeling more nervous than if Natasha had come by and threatened with her knives.

Natasha doesn’t threaten, though, not even when she comes up next to him when Bucky is chopping vegetables. She sneaks pieces from underneath his knife, but otherwise says nothing and doesn’t pull out her own knife to help. She gives him a judging look, sneaks one last bite, and then walks away.

Bucky keeps an eye out for any additional tripping hazards as he brings the salad down to Tony.

Tony isn’t in the mood for a salad, though, and Bucky mentally berates JARVIS who guided him in this direction. Tony takes one look at the bowl and storms around the workshop table. There are deep circles under his eyes, Bucky notes, and more coffee cups scattered around than usual.

“Alright, enough. Time to come clean. Fess up, Buckster, what’s with the whole food thing?” Tony accuses as he waves at the salad.

“I, uh, thought you might like…?” Bucky offers, shrinking back.

Tony whirls, eyes bright and angry. “You don’t have to keep doing this. I  _am_ capable of feeding myself, no matter that I’m a castoff omega, or whatever it is that you’re thinking.”

“No!” Bucky defends. “That’s not… of course I don’t!”

“Then what? Some kind of penance or apology because of Steve? Don’t worry it’s not needed. He’s all yours.”

Bucky shakes his head, but the words won’t come.

“Well then what, you want to rub it in my face that he chose you? Guess what - I don’t even care!” Tony shouts. He turns and swipes everything on the table, including the salad, to the floor.

Bucky leaps back.

“You think, what, that I’m down here heartbroken? That bond meant nothing. It was all political, for PR and to cement the pack. And guess what, it worked! Congratulations, no hard feelings, Steve can dump me and our pathetic bond and move on to you now, and you don’t have to worry about me and  _this_  - whatever  _this_  is!” Tony kicks at the mess on the floor, and then whirls on Bucky, eyes wet. “So you can just fucking stop, okay? And get out!”

Bucky flees, but he turns back to look when the glass door hisses shut behind him.

Tony has crumpled to the floor, face hidden in his hands.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the feels last chapter XD I'll reply to comments soon, but for now have a (sort of) fix! <3

Tony has the pack. He doesn’t need Bucky. Tony has the pack.

_We’re a pack, Barnes, and that includes you_ , Sam had said.  _You’re pack_ , Tony had told him,  _because you fit_. And yet, and yet…

Bucky doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want to run. He wants to stay; he wants to be part of this pack. But if the choice is between him and Tony, then Bucky will pick Tony every time.

Sometimes he doesn’t understand Steve at all.

Tony uses every bit of his brilliance, generosity, and compassion to give back to the pack. He’s funny, dropping jokes and witty comebacks at the drop of a hat, and incredibly strong, keeping the pack together despite Steve breaking their bond. He’s handsome too, whether in a suit and tie or jeans and a T-shirt. Bucky had never questioned why Steve had bonded to Tony.

Compared to that, what does Bucky have to offer the pack?

“Bruce told you to be careful,” Clint says with a sigh when he finds Bucky out on the roof instead of in the communal kitchen during lunchtime.

Bucky frowns. “I tried.” He thought he had been, but clearly he’d simply been old-fashioned. Tony doesn’t need Bucky watching out for him. Tony has the rest of the pack.

Clint snorts. “Yeah, that didn’t go so well, did it?”

Bucky turns away.

“Alright, sorry, sorry, that was uncalled for,” Clint says as he walks right up to the edge and takes a seat, dangling his legs over the edge. “Tony still has his sharp edges. Don’t take anything he says when he lashes out too personal, okay?”

Bucky takes a seat next to Clint. “He said…” he starts, doubting whether he should repeat what Tony said, but he pushes through, “he said the bond with Steve was just to cement the pack. It wasn’t - it didn’t mean anything.”

Clint hums as he peers down at the streets far, far below. After a few moments, he finally responds. “None of us are idiots. We know there was pressure to cement the Avengers as a pack after that disaster with Loki and that alien army. We almost didn’t get our asses together to save the world, after all. Fury wanted us to be better prepared for the next time.”

Clint sighs, loud and long. “The bond helped Steve and Tony get on the same page and pulled the rest of us along with them. It worked; Fury was right. Did it mean anything?”

Clint turns to Bucky. “You won’t ever get the  _pleasure_  of knowing what a freshly-thawed Steve Rogers was like, before he found a place in this time and a pack to call his own. I’m sure Steve doesn’t know how much he changed, how much the bond helped. And Tony… he went forty years without a bond despite countless offers. You think when he finally let himself get hitched, that it wouldn’t mean anything?”

Bucky forces himself to breathe. “And Steve wrecked it… for me.”

“Yup,” Clint says with a humorless grin. He claps Bucky on the shoulder. “But don’t feel too bad, metal man. No one, not even Tony, is going to begrudge you or Steve your happiness. Life just sucks, sometimes.”

Bucky swallows his own lack of feelings about Steve. He can still be part of the pack without bonding with Steve, right?

“Now come on. I’m going to show you who the arcade master is in this pack,” Clint says as he gets up, tugging Bucky along.

Clint takes him to the arcade and kicks Bucky’s ass, but next time Bucky vows revenge. He goes to another soccer game with Sam. He walks the city streets with Steve, remembering old times and not talking about Tony, the pack, or that kiss.

Natasha pulls Bucky aside after another pack dinner that Tony doesn’t show up to and Steve kept looking at Bucky, with looks that Bucky tried to return.

“Sometimes it’s easier to be what someone else wants, rather than to figure out what you want,” she tells him. Bucky swallows. “Trust me, I know,” she continues gently.

She does. Bucky has memories now of just how much Natasha would know.

Bucky nods his agreement. He thought about faking feelings for Steve to cement his position in the pack. It would maybe justify the broken bond that still seems physically present, but he can’t. He can’t lead Steve on like that.

His shoulders drop as the weight of pretending to return Steve’s feelings fall from them.

“I want to go back to the ballet,” he offers in return.

Natasha quirks an eyebrow, and Bucky thinks he’s surprised her.

“JARVIS can get you tickets whenever you want,” she says.

“Would you like to come?” Bucky asks.

She smiles, small but genuine. “I would be happy to.”

After pondering, there’s something else Bucky wants.

He has to return to the workshop.

Bruce is inside with Tony when Bucky knocks on the door. It’s after lunch, and Bucky has come empty-handed. There are two empty plates on the bench that Bruce clears away when he sees Bucky.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Bucky starts, flushing, when he steps inside.

“You didn’t, we were just finishing up. Any longer and Tony will pull me into a project, and I have cultures to get back to up in my lab,” Bruce says, tone light. He gives Bucky an easy smile, and then pats him on the shoulder when he leaves.

“I’m offended that you pick your bacteria over me!” Tony shouts after him.

In the distraction, Bucky gives himself a moment to sniff up more of Tony’s calming scent. He’d missed smelling it when he’d stopped bringing Tony food every day.

“What can I do for you?” Tony asks, avoiding Bucky’s gaze to mess around with something on his table.

Bucky takes a deep breath. “I came to apologize.”

Tony looks up at him, wide-eyed. “What  _for_?”

“You welcomed me on day one,” Bucky says, fingering the hem of his shirt. “That… it meant a lot to me, even if you only did it because of Steve. Then at the ballet, when you told me I was part of the pack, not because of Steve but because I fit? ”

Tony waves it away, but Bucky continues. “I wanted to say thank you. And I’m sorry, for what Steve did in breaking the bond. Even if the bond wasn’t… wasn’t what I’m used to, he still hurt you because of me, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Tony says gruffly, avoiding Bucky’s gaze. “Sorry, on my end, for throwing all that at you last time. I shouldn’t have done that. And I wish you and Steve all the best. Seriously, go do your thing, I’m fine.”

“I don’t want Steve,” Bucky confesses. He flushes under Tony’s stare. “I… I never did, not that I remember, and I remember a lot now. He’s pack, always, but like a brother.”

Tony barks out a harsh laugh, and then he can’t stop. He bows over the table in a fit of hysterical laughter.

Bucky shoves his hands in his pockets and stands there.

“What a shitty deal,” Tony croaks out when his laughter winds down. “All that, and you… really?”

“Really,” Bucky confirms softly.

Tony lets another chuckle escape and scrubs his face. “Fuck, I wish I knew how to not love Steve Rogers.”

Bucky winces. He keeps his response to himself. He does love Steve, just not like Steve wants. Bucky doesn’t think Tony needs to hear Bucky say it again, though.

“I’m sorry,” is all Bucky can offer.

Tony shakes his head. “Seriously, stop apologizing. It’s not your fault that we’re all a bunch of idiots.”

Bucky lets the silence rest for a few moments before he pushes. “Will you come back to pack dinner now?”

Tony looks away. “I’m a busy guy, you know. I’ll try, I always try.” Then he finally meets Bucky’s gaze. “We’re good though, Terminator, okay? Don’t worry about you and me, or me and Steve, or whatever you’re agonizing over all day long in those dark corners of yours. We’re cool.”

Bucky nods. He takes one last discrete sniff of Tony’s scent all over the workshop, and then leaves.

Not that night, but the following, Tony shows up at pack dinner. He smiles, smaller but more genuine, as he greets everyone in the pack with a clap on the shoulder or a kiss on the cheek.

Steve gets a clap on the shoulder. Bucky gets a kiss on the cheek.

Bucky carries the warmth of that throughout the dinner, pleased with himself that Tony is attending. Bruce gives Bucky a pleased smile and a nod of approval. Steve shoots Bucky a questioning look, but Bucky dodges it to debate Sam’s predictions of the outcome of the upcoming soccer matches.

A few days later, JARVIS lets Bucky know that he has a message from Tony.

“I’m hungry. Bring me food. I’m thinking nachos,” the message says.

Bucky makes tacos instead, but does bring a bag of tortilla chips in case Tony gets angry about the lack of nachos. JARVIS opens the door to the workshop automatically, and Bucky cautiously enters.

“We needed a thing,” Tony starts, not looking up from where he’s working on one of the gauntlets for the Iron Man armor. “Right? You have a thing with everyone else, and we needed one, so I thought this could be it.”

Bucky tries to catch up on Tony’s thought process. “A thing?”

“Ballet with Natasha, arcade games with Clint, soccer with Sam,” Tony lists. “I don’t know what you do with Bruce, do you have a thing with Bruce? He does tea and yoga and science, those are all good things, except for maybe the tea.”

“And you want our thing to be me bringing you food?” Bucky asks as he cautiously sets the tacos down.

“I mean, you’re welcome to some too, like a lunch thing. I mean, I like food, you like food, right? I assume so, but I guess I could be wrong,” Tony rambles.

“I like food,” Bucky says, a smile growing on his face. “A lunch thing sounds good.”

“Yeah? Yeah, awesome. Tacos! I love tacos, good choice.”

Slowly the ‘lunch thing’ turns into a ‘hangout thing,’ when Tony starts showing Bucky some of the projects he’s been working on. Bucky can’t mask his fondness for the cars, and Tony indulges him by showing him the entire lineup, inside and out. The workshop becomes an open invitation to Bucky, and it’s one that he’s happy to accept. Sometimes he goes down there simply to flip through magazines on the couch while Tony works. Sometimes Bucky dozes on the couch, surrounded by Tony’s scent. Bucky’s own scent is beginning to leave a mark, mingling with Tony’s in a way that leaves Bucky aching with want.

Bucky keeps that discovery to himself. Tony and Steve are still overly civil to each other, causing waves by trying too hard not to fight, and Bucky is still the reason Tony has a broken bond. It doesn’t stop Bucky dreaming about how delicious Tony would taste, though. It doesn’t stop Bucky from thinking about what Tony would look like with his neck bared for Bucky.

Tony would have a mischievous little grin on his face as he tilted his head, teasing Bucky. Or maybe Tony would be smiling, that broad happy grin that makes his eyes squint, when Bucky noses down his neck. Or maybe Tony wouldn’t be smiling - he’d be breathless and keening as Bucky sank his teeth into the base of Tony’s throat and marked him as Bucky’s.

Bucky’s mark would go right next to Steve’s. With his healing factor, Steve never formed a bonding mark, but the mark on Tony will never fade - a constant visual reminder of what has been lost.

It had taken weeks since the break-up for Bucky to see Tony in a T-shirt with a neckline swooped low enough for Steve’s mark to be visible.

Bucky doesn’t mind the mark, even though it reminds him that Tony used to be Steve’s. Tony carries the scars of Iron Man too, and Bucky those from Hydra. Those will never fade either.

Maybe Bucky should feel guilty thinking this way about someone Steve had bonded with. Bucky isn’t stepping in on Steve’s partner though; Steve’s lack of feelings had been the problem. Steve probably didn’t spend hours watching Tony work, or think about what their scents were like when mixed together, or what he could to next to get Tony to laugh or smile or roll his eyes.

“Man… just tell me you know what you’re doing,” Sam warns when he catches Bucky staring one day.

Bucky shrugs and looks away.

“Oh, here we go,” Sam mutters. “My luck that Captain America pulled me into a pack of goddamn idiots.”

Bucky snorts. “Takes one to know, doesn’t it?”

Bucky doesn’t make a move, though.  Whenever Bucky catches himself wanting too much, he replays Tony’s words of ‘I wish I knew how to not love Steve Rogers,’ and that keeps Bucky’s mouth shut.

Bucky doesn’t talk to Steve about his feelings for Tony, and he doesn’t talk to Steve about their kiss. He doesn’t plan to, either. He and Steve have settled back into friendship easily, exactly what Bucky remembers from before he fell from that train, with only a couple of longing looks escaping from Steve. They still walk the streets of New York City, discovering new bakeries and alleyways and shops, marveling over the array of modern things available in this time.

Bucky has a pack, one that he never could’ve imagined, and that’s enough.


	5. Chapter 5

“You have to act surprised,” Tony warns but the stern words don’t match the glee in his eyes. He’s almost dancing in place as Bucky enters the workshop.

“Right now?” Bucky asks.

“No, no, when the pack asks you tonight officially and all that jazz, but this is the fun part and it simply can’t wait,” Tony says.

“Pardon the interruption, but Sergeant Barnes you have an incoming call,” JARVIS says.

Tony’s pout has Bucky replying, “Just take a message, please.” Bucky walks further into the shop. “Tell me before you vibrate to pieces, then,” he teases.

Tony whips a sheet off the table in front of him revealing a M249 SAW, or at least what it was initially before Tony upgraded it. Bucky listens to Tony’s explanations and details of the reload capacity and rate of fire as Bucky ghosts his hand over the gun. Dread beats in his chest.

“So, do you like it?” Tony asks grinning, as he rocks back and forth on his feet.

Without thinking, Bucky meets Tony’s gaze.

“You don’t want it,” Tony realizes. His face falls for a moment, hurt, before Tony covers with a wistful expression and nonchalant shrug. “That’s cool, no big deal. I’ll figure out something else, and we can get you what you want. I shouldn’t have just jumped ahead and assumed -”

“Tony, Tony!” Bucky interrupts. “I don’t… I just, what  _is_  this?”

“M249 SAW with a couple of minor adjustments. Like I said, it’s nothing,” Tony says, already pulling the sheet over the gun.

“Why?” Bucky asks, throat aching.

“We… I mean, to be an Avenger, I thought you might want… but I was wrong, it’s fine, it happens. Don’t tell Clint,” Tony tries to joke.

“An Avenger?” Bucky croaks.

“Yeah, of course,” Tony says, like he’s confused why Bucky’s confused.

Bucky, an Avenger. Bucky’s pack is the Avengers. He should’ve seen this coming and prepared for this, but Bucky had never thought for a moment that he would become an Avenger.

“Bucky? What’s wrong?” Tony presses.

Bucky closes his eyes, not able to face Tony for this. “Always got to be a fight, doesn’t it?”

“Until we can figure out how to protect the world without one, yeah. There’s going to be a fight,” Tony says.

Bucky can hear the confusion in Tony’s voice. He sighs and opens his eyes to see Tony standing close, brows furrowed.

“Guess I can go by the Winter Soldier, huh?” Bucky says, giving up. His pack is a war pack. He should’ve known that he’d be dragged into the fight, especially with Steve Rogers leading the charge.

“You don’t want to be an Avenger?” Tony asks, still confused.

Bucky shrugs. “I’m not leaving the pack.” He’s had enough of fighting, with his memories of the war and of his time with Hydra. He’s tired of blood on his hands and seeing the eyes of the dead. But can he really continue to stay at home and watch the rest of his pack fight without him?

Bucky reaches for the gun, but Tony grabs his wrist.

“You’re pack,” Tony states, stepping into Bucky’s space. “Fighting Avenger or not. Even if you don’t ever pick up another gun again, you’re pack. That isn’t going to change.”

“I can do it. I was made to be a weapon,” Bucky says.

Tony grins sharply. “I was made to build weapons. Choose something else. Whatever you want.” Tony looks up at him, his brown eyes piercing. “What do you want, Bucky? What do you  _want_?”

Bucky’s mouth goes dry. There’s one thing that he desperately, achingly wants. He reaches out, hand trembling, and cups Tony’s cheek with his right hand. Tony stares at him, wide-eyed. Bucky steps closer and wraps his left arm around Tony’s waist.

“I want what I shouldn’t,” Bucky whispers.

“Why not?” Tony whispers back. He settles his hands on Bucky’s hips, and Bucky’s skin lights up under the touch.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Bucky says.

Tony smiles softly. “Then don’t,” he replies, like it’s that easy.

Bucky smiles. Maybe it can be that easy. He leans down and Tony leans up, and Bucky feels Tony’s breath against his lips when there’s a choking sound behind him.

Bucky whirls, releasing Tony, to see Steve racing back up the stairs.

Bucky turns back around, and Tony has stepped away. Tony leans back against the workshop table, gripping the edges with white knuckles as his chest rises and falls in controlled deep breaths.

_Did you know?_  Bucky wants to bite out, but swallows the words instead. Tony had held Bucky’s gaze every moment. He couldn’t have seen Steve. He had only been looking at Bucky, right?

“You should go,” Tony says, voice calm. He turns to the gun, his back to Bucky. “Go talk to Steve.”

“Tony…” Bucky protests, conflicted.

He wants Steve to not have decided to come to the workshop. He wants to have kissed Tony, in that moment. He still wants to kiss Tony, even though the moment is shattered.

He wants to not doubt that Tony wanted to kiss him too, whether or not Steve was there.

“You don’t want to hurt him either,” Tony says, voice empty.

This time, the question slips out before Bucky can swallow it. “Do you?”

Tony whirls around, and Bucky relaxes back on his heels because now there’s emotion back in Tony. The emotion is anger, but Bucky doesn’t mind that. Bucky is too relieved that it isn’t guilt on Tony’s face.

“You think I want to hurt Steve?” Tony growls. “If that’s what this is, some kind of test, then you can go fuck yourself.”

Bucky grins, wide and relieved, which visibly throws Tony off. “I’m gonna go have a chat with Steve and calm him down. Then I’ll be back, okay?” He asks. There’s hope building in his chest for recovering that moment with Tony. There’s hope for similar moments with Tony in the future, and Bucky  _wants_.

“Sure, whatever,” Tony tries to dismiss, gaze focused on where he’s fiddling with a screw.

“I’ll be back,” Bucky promises and strides out of the workshop.

Bucky finds Steve in the gym. Steve is already whaling on a punching bag, and he hadn’t bothered to change into sweats or tape his hands before he had begun.

“I’m not asking for your permission,” Bucky starts, jumping right into it. “Pack alpha or not, it’s not your call.”

Steve pauses for only a moment, then gives a flurry of punches. “That all you got to say?” he spits out.

“What more do you want?” Bucky says, walking closer. This is familiar - poking and prodding Steve until he finally spills whatever he’s keeping bottled up. Doesn’t matter what size of chest Steve’s got to store his anger in, eventually it has to come out, and Bucky can handle it.

Steve does a combination that would be too fast to see to a non-enhanced human. Bucky can see the individual hits, and is only minorly impressed when the final kick breaks the bag off it’s chain.

“Now you’re just being mean,” Bucky drawls, his own anger coming out to meet Steve’s.

Steve whirls on him. Bucky tenses in preparation, but Steve doesn’t attack.

“After everything,” Steve spits out, jaw tight, “everything that we’ve -” Steve cuts himself off, then turns his face away. Steve deflates, his entire body sagging. “Why not me?” he asks.

Anger leaks out of Bucky as well. “I’m sorry,” he says, and means it. Bucky crosses his arms. “I love you, I do, just… not like you want me to.”

Steve nods and doesn’t look at Bucky.

“I’m with you until the end of the line,” Bucky says, and something in his chest settles at how well the words fit in his mouth. He quirks a smile when Steve glances at him. “Romance is just the one place I can’t follow you.”

Steve swallows hard, his eyes lined with red. Still, he attempts a smile and a shrug. “Guess I’ll have you anyway, jerk.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easy,” Bucky replies and then steps forward to give Steve a hug.

Steve hugs back, tight. Bucky matches the pressure, and Steve’s ribs creak underneath Bucky’s hold. Bucky’s own ribs have the same protest, but Bucky doesn’t care.

Finally Steve steps back. He doesn’t meet Bucky’s eyes when he asks, “It has to be Tony?”

Bucky sticks his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. He’s… something else.”

Steve nods, and then jerks his thumb back at the showers. Without another word, Bucky leaves the gym. He doesn’t quite make it out of enhanced hearing range before he hears a muffled sob escape Steve.

Then it’s Bucky’s turn to almost cry when he gets back to the workshop to find the windows blackened out and the door locked.

“JARVIS, let me in,” Bucky begs as he bangs on the door.

“Apologies, but Sir has locked down the workshop,” JARVIS replies with sympathy.

“Tony!” Bucky shouts. “Tony, please let me in!”

There’s no response. Bucky’s chest aches.

“Given the insulation and audio cancellation features in the panels, Sir can’t hear you,” JARVIS explains.

Bucky rests against the door and swallows past the lump in his throat. At least Tony isn’t listening to him yell and still refusing to let him in. Tony just simply isn’t listening to him at all.

“Thank you,” Bucky whispers hoarsely before he climbs the stairs again.

Bucky goes straight to his room and lies down. He stares at the ceiling, the sunlight eventually fading from afternoon into dusk into night. Bucky has missed team dinner. He wonders if Tony went. He wonders if Steve went. He wonders if the whole pack knows now or if he’ll have to explain how he wrecked things again.

He wonders if the pack will still ask Bucky to be an Avenger, or if he’s wrecked that too.

Does he want to be an Avenger?

Bucky drums his fingers on the bed. He has nothing to avenge. Himself, with the creation of the Winter Soldier? Not a good enough reason, not for Bucky. Avenge the world? Bucky isn’t good enough, not for that. Avenge his pack?

For his pack, Bucky could. For Natasha and Clint and Sam and Bruce, he would. For Tony, he would. For Steve, Bucky would. Until the end of the line, he will follow that punk, he knows.

Bucky sighs. Yes, he wants to be an Avenger. For his pack, he will pick up the gun again. For his pack, he will become a soldier again. For his pack, he will kill again. Bucky chooses his pack. He chooses to protect his pack the best that he knows how.

“Sir is requesting access to your floor,” JARVIS announces quietly.

Bucky sits up. “Let him in,” he orders.

When Tony knocks on the bedroom door, Bucky is there to open it.

“Hey,” Tony says, eyes shining.

Tony smells like flying and hot metal. He smells like whiskey, and he smells like pack. Natasha and Bruce’s scents intermingle with Tony’s, and Bucky quiets the snarl of jealousy in his chest. They’re all pack, even if Natasha is another alpha, and Bucky should be glad that Tony had them at his side.

Even if Bucky wishes Tony had picked him instead.

“I’m selfish,” Tony admits, leaning against the doorway as he stares up at Bucky.

“You’re not,” Bucky protests immediately. If there’s anything he knows, it’s this. Not after everything Tony has given to the pack, to Bucky, to the entire  _world_.

“I am,” Tony declares. “I am. And I’m gonna hurt you cause I love Steve, and I already hurt Steve cause I like you, and I’m gonna hurt the pack cause I’m selfish, and -”

“Shhh,” Bucky interrupts. “It’s okay, I… we don’t have to…”

Bucky could send Tony away. That would be easier and might stop this continued mess between Steve, Tony, and himself. End it, before it can really begin.

Tony groans. “And now I’m screwing this up too.  I wasn’ supposed to talk to you until I was sober.”

Bucky still wants, though. With Tony right in front of him, staring up at Bucky with big brown eyes - Bucky wants. He hadn’t lied to Steve earlier, Tony is something special.

He licks his lips and reaches for Tony’s elbow. “I like you too, Tony. Can you… will you stay?”

Tony stares, then sighs and falls into Bucky. “You have to make me coffee in the morning,” Tony demands as he nuzzles his cheek against Bucky’s chest. “I might be hungover.”

“I can do that,” Bucky agrees as he tentatively settles his arms around Tony. Hope rares to life in his chest again, and Bucky  _wants_ so badly he can taste it on the back of his tongue. “Food is our thing, right? So you’ll stay?”

“Yes. Until you kick me out,” Tony admits.

Bucky gives himself an inch. He kisses Tony’s forehead, but then no more. His lips tingle from the contact, and he licks them. Tony tracks the movement, and Bucky grins.

“Stay, then. I’m not gonna kick you out,” Bucky promises. He tugs Tony over to the bed. Since Tony isn’t wearing shoes or socks, Bucky simply tucks Tony in. Something in him preens at being able to take care of Tony for once. Then Bucky slides in on the other side, turning to face Tony.

“That’s it?” Tony whines.

“That’s it. Get some sleep, doll. I’ll bring you breakfast in the morning,” Bucky replies with a smile.

There’s a few more things Bucky can think of wanting in regards to Tony. He wants to reach out and map Tony’s face. He wants to pull Tony close and feel his warmth. He wants to taste every inch of Tony, and give Tony everything that Tony wants.

For tonight, though, Bucky just falls asleep listening to Tony’s breathing, with Tony’s scent in his nose… and it’s good.


End file.
